Hydro
by Maya Sushi
Summary: They didn't know that when he took a shower, he trembled... It was just water... It wasn't his fault.


_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own Sonic the Hedgehog. But I do plan on owning the game for my ipod soon :)

_**A/N: **_Okay, so, for some reason, I really felt like writing a Sonic the Hedgehog fanfic. I don't even know why. And, by the way, I am aware that there is a fic in this section called Hydrophobia, so I named it Hydro in the title because I didn't want to steal their name for the fiction. I think that Sonic's fear of water should be explored, as much as is possible. Because it is a beautiful fault, and all heroes need some o' those. So, without further ado...

***

_**Hydrophobia**_

He never really would explain to anyone the extent of his fear.

How could he? Their image of him was so pure, so wonderful. In their eyes he was the perfect hero. Invincible. Nothing could stop him. Of course not. _Especially_ not him, not Sonic, not Sonic the Hedgehog. Not he, who can blow through danger and laugh, and _make jokes,_ in the face of death. It was much easier anyway, much simpler, to just play along. Let them believe what they want. Let them believe what he wanted to believe. Even when... No, it was easier to just be the picture perfect hero they wanted him to be. Afraid of nothing.

It was easier to believe this than to acknowledge this fear.

That was, after all, one of the hardest parts about this... Problem of his. I mean, seriously, was that not like the most unreasonable, irrational, stupid fear in the history of forever? Water? Water!? There were days when he would face speeding bullets, advancing machinery, robotic mercenaries, all wanting one thing: his demise. But he was never afraid. Not once. Not until he stood before a nice full pond of water watching his friends have fun and shivered down to his very core.

Screaming at himself.

Water?

Really?

Fucking learn to swim!  
Swim...

He would, oh, he _would_ learn to swim.

If only there wasn't so much god damn _water_ involved. He'd thought for a little while that maybe if he learned to swim, maybe it would all end. It might have worked too, if he could get anywhere near the waters edge without feeling as if he were about to die from fear alone. Yes, they all knew he could not swim. They knew that Sonic didn't like water. They knew that this wouldn't stop him, because he was there _hero._

And this worried him. Because what if one day it _did_ stop him? And he let them down? And he couldn't be a hero because he was too damned afraid to do anything at all. And that would be the worst part, not being able to do anything. Because he was _Sonic the Hedgehog,_ and he feared their rejection almost as much as...

Almost.

Yes, they knew this wouldn't stop him, and he knew he wasn't so sure.

Because there were a lot of things that they didn't know too.

They didn't know about the way he would instantly shoot home when the sky started to turn gray. They didn't know that he never left to go running when it was raining outside because he was so scared. Scared of the water that surrounded him and pelted against his fur and skin. They didn't know that he stood and the window and watched the rain with fear in his eyes and tried to tell himself, to teach himself, not to be afraid. Small steps. _You can't drown in the rain Sonic, you can't drown if it's falling __onto you__. _Small steps, _No control, no control, you can't stop the rain from falling, it could just keep falling and falling and __falling__ and... _Small steps. _You can't drown from rain. Just a little harmless... water. _Small steps. _Water, water, __water._

Maybe, eventually, he might take those small steps outside, and into the rain.

_You can't drown, it's just rain. Water, water, __water._

Then again, maybe not.

They didn't know that when he took a shower, he trembled. His showers were as quick as his name sake, but sometimes in his faster-than-life world, he wouldn't know how to move. There were always two moments like this. The first would be after he had closed his eyes tightly and turned the water on, avoiding with his eyes the first sight of it. So close. He would stand before the vacant shower and hear the dreadful liquid splashing against the bottom of the tiled floor and he would give himself courage. It took everything he had. Some days it would be a remembrance of past braveries, occasionally it would be thoughts of happy things (like running and the wind), and often it would be memories of his friends. Some days, it would simply be the fact that he had to delve that deeply into himself simply to get into the shower.

It's just a fucking shower after all.

The second moment would come when he was at the end of his short shower Although, it always seemed like an eternity of terrifying waterfalls on his trembling form. He would stand underneath the cascading rivulets of the liquid he feared so much and he would freeze. He couldn't move, he couldn't move, he couldn't move. There was water everywhere, all around him. All he could do for one painful minute was quake with terror.

You can't drown from a fucking shower.

He would get out.

But it didn't matter that he was out and he was oh-so-so-so happy, and oh-so-so-so relieved. It didn't matter, because he was still scared. He would still have to take a shower again. He would still feel that terribly irrational fear. He would still feel that wonderful consumption of relief.

And that scared him too.

That he knew, that he was _aware_, of how he was so awfully afraid of something so petty and _not scary at all_ that he would feel that _relieved._

So, he was afraid that he was this afraid.

It's just fucking water.

The thing was, it was just fucking water. But... You _could_ just drown. And it wasn't _his_ fault that he shivered when he had to wash his hands before he helped cook. It wasn't _his_ fault that he hated the feeling of the dew surrounding him during his morning runs. It wasn't _his_ fault he hated to accept a drink offered to him to cool him after a run, the horrid clear liquid running down his throat. He felt like choking. It wasn't _his _fault that he had a hard time taking showers and hated rainstorms. _So much._

It wasn't his fault.

Because it was the _water's_ fault.

Because he was just so fucking _afraid._

He couldn't help it.

He wasn't perfect.

He wasn't wonderful.

He wasn't, he wouldn't, he couldn't.

He was just...

So...

Scared.


End file.
